Two weeks until the end of school, two and a half if you count graduation, which I should since all faculty have to robe up and attend. I’ve been having very unQuakerly thoughts about a couple of my students, their terrible, late, obviously-didn’t-look-at-the-assignment, depending-upon-weak-charm-rather-than-actual-work papers, and the Ordeal of a Thousand Paper Cuts.
Neither Jesus nor George Fox taught freshman composition.
Okay, I guess crucifixion for the world’s sins and oppression and continuous time in ooky English prisons trumps the end of the semester. I hate putting things into perspective.